September 18th, 2009 |
1:24 AM

I've not been participating in Poetry Friday of late and that's mad me sad. So I have given myself the personal goal to address one of Tricia past Poetry Stretches each Friday for a while. For those of you not familiar with these wonderful poetry challenges please go check out The Miss Rumphius Effect

This particular challenge was prompted by the idea of having your picture taken. You can read the original challenge here.

And here's my original poem.

SNAPSHOT

Before the shutter snapsI am still beautifulhair, long and blonddraped around my shouldersjust like it did in high school when boys wrapped their fingers in its strandsand pulled me close between classesmaking promises they would never keepskin, peaches and creamNoxzema fresha single chineyes lit from withinwith a confidence I rarely shareanymore

CLICK!

Afterthirty triesI do not know this strangerwith my faceI do not like hermuchrosacea inducedzits freckle her cheekstwo chins, noweyes filled with fearof what the worldmight seemight saymight judgebut the hair,the hair is still long and blondeand my husband twists his fingers in its strandsand pulls me closewhispering promiseshe always keeps

Saturday here as you know wonderful poem and writing as always just wanted to post my poem today as it is my birthday and perhaps given me extra courage to do so- Anne McKenna

MY BOXES OF MEMORIES There are three kinds of boxes I use to organise my mind The first is a big black steel box to put all bad memories I find The box has no key it only has a slot for it will never be opened In here I place all the things That need to be forgot I need them no longer They only ever cause me pain By dwelling on them I have nothing to gain I push the box to the back of my mind to remain there forever more I can add to the box but never release For these things have gone before The second is my silver box For all the qualities I hold dear Courage, wisdom happiness and love with these close, I will not fear I collect all those so hard to find From people I most admire I add to this box to help me through life To grow as I desire I place this box on my shoulder So it can be in easy reach for everything inside For I no longer feel frightened Nor need to run and hide For with this box on my shoulder I can face anything life has in store The box can be opened freely to be used and then used some more The third is my golden box I place it close to my heart It has a big golden key In here I place memories of people that will always mean so much to me Those that have passed on People I have met along the way I keep these memories close to my heart In the hope they won't fade away I feel that with these boxes with me I can always see things more clearly They opened my eyes to things around me To remind me what I hold dearly I hope I always have these boxes And that they are always close by For all those special memories Until the day I die

Who am I?I was born on the Cancer/Leo cusp and share a birthday with Ernest Hemingway and Robin Williams. The similarities don't stop there as I can go from depressed to ecstatic without ever passing go. I feel scared most of the time though my friends call me brave and I find it easier to believe in my friends than to believe in my own abilities to make what I want out of my life.

Who am I? A wife, a mother, a daughter, and even, gulp, a grandmother.

Who am I? A writer who never gets tired of playing with words, even when the words are hard to find. A writer of books for children and articles for grown-ups and many things in-between.

"Successful writers are not the ones who write the best sentences. They are the ones who keep writing. They are the ones who discover what is most important and strangest and most pleasurable in themselves, and keep believing in the value of their work, despite the difficulties."
--Bonnie Friedman

"As writers, we must be willing to feel our sadness, our anger, our terror, so we can reach in and find our sweet vulnerability that is just sitting there waiting for us to come back home."
--Nancy Slonim Aronie

"Writers write about what obsesses them. You draw those cards. I lost my mother when I was 14. My daughter died at the age of 6. I lost my faith as a Catholic. When I'm writing, the darkness is always there. I go where the pain is."
--Anne Rice